


Any dinner guest who has consumed the host’s missing contact lens along with the dessert

by livrelibre



Series: After Elimination Dance (an intermission) [11]
Category: Dead Zone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-10
Updated: 2010-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livrelibre/pseuds/livrelibre





	Any dinner guest who has consumed the host’s missing contact lens along with the dessert

To be fair, Johnny wasn’t expecting a vision while eating Bruce’s creme brulee (though it was so good you sometimes would swear you were seeing things), but then who expected to eat their host’s missing contact lens? One minute it was all caramelized goodness and the next, he was treated to visions of himself that were overlaid with a pleasure that was almost as sinful as the custard. Johnny got quick flashes of the sight of his hand on his cane, the feel of his biceps as Bruce steadied him, a drop of sweat running down his neck as he did exercises, his mouth speaking, the look in his eyes as he had a vision. And all of it was overlaid with affection, desire, worry, love. There was nothing like seeing yourself from the outside, seeing what was behind the steady and constant regard he’d come to cherish, to need. He came to to Bruce beside him at the dinner table, clutching his arm and hanging on with that familiar expression as Johnny shook off the disorientation. Just as usual but now Johnny knew what lay beyond. For a moment, he flashed on how his own face usually looked to Bruce from this position and wondered if that familiar expression was at all overlaid with his dawning wonder and heat.

“Johnny, you all right, man? What happened? At first, I thought you were choking but then you just zoned out.”

Johnny blinked at him for a moment and then put his finger to his tongue. He could see, now, the way Bruce’s eyes tracked his finger and the minute swallow he hid so well as Johnny slipped a finger into his own mouth and fished further back, making sure to suck lightly as he removed it. Just to remove the dessert and all, you know. Bruce’s eyes went dark.

“I found your contact lens. And why don’t we finish dessert on the couch. Or upstairs.”


End file.
